Dinner Reservations
by Sunset-leaf
Summary: Jibbs :D “You know last time we had Steak Au Poivre, six people died.” - Family Secret, 3.16
1. Chapter 1

Jen looked sat herself in the mirror in the bathroom

Jen looked sat herself in the mirror in the bathroom. The steam from the shower had clouded the reflective surface but it was beginning to clear. She stared at the tiny heart that had been traced in the corner or the mirror, and grinned. He would always let her know when he had been there, watching her, adoring her. She loved that about him, the fact that she knew he would always be there.

Part of her had known he had been standing there, his gaze on her wet body as she showered, making her feel safe, loved. To have him constantly looking out for her, protecting her, made her feel safer than she had ever felt in her life. These past 6 months in Paris had made her so happy, and Jethro had taken her by surprise. She didn't think it was possible to fall this much in love.

She bent over draping a towel over her head, before twisting it ad standing back up, the perfect turban hugging her auburn tresses. She gasps as she saw Jethro's reflection in the mirror, stood behind her.

"I thought I told you, no creeping up on me!" she said, smiling a smile that only he could bring to her face. And he knew it.

"Well then its no fun," he grinned. She smiled and tightened the hold of the towel wrapped around her damp figure. He eyed her up and down, slowly, the sparkle that always came when he was mentally undressing her, present in his eyes.

"That no fun either," he said quietly, his voice low and heavy.

"Jethro, will you stop it! We only have 15 minutes to get ready and down there. If we are late and we miss this I am not the one who is going to be reporting to Director Willows." Their lives were not worth living if they missed this dinner reservation. They had been tipped off that the man they had been after for the past month was meeting with a known arms dealer in a restaurant across town. If they missed this opportunity to pick up any info of a possible deal, well, it just couldn't happen.

"I can live with that," he said taking a step towards her.

Jen giggled and backed away, "Jethro, don't!" The impact of her words where hindered somewhat by the telling smile on her lips, there was no way she wanted Jethro to stop it. In fact he could carry on, right here, right now and she would complete his every wish. Leroy Jethro Gibbs had her wrapped around his little fingers, and he knew it too. The moment that he had ithat/i look in his eyes it was hopeless, she was his.

He moved slowly across the room his eyes glistened as Jen backed up against the cold glass of the shower door. Her heart beat faster as her stomach filled with butterflies. The hair on the back of her neck stood up in anticipation, eagerly awaiting his touch. "Jethro, we can't. We really don't have time to…"

She didn't get to finish the sentence as Jethro reached where she was standing and pressed his lips against hers, pushing her into the glass. The butterflies disappeared as they were replaced by a hot wave, spreading its way around her body. She relaxed against the shower pane as he raised his arms, cupping her face in his hands. She brought her own hands to his neck, sliding the round and bringing him into an embrace. How was this possible? How could he make her feel this good, this quickly?

She smiled as she, for the smallest second, become too involved with the kiss and pushed into him, her body separating from the shower door. The towel that had been covering her body dropped limply to the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

"I can't believe you did that to me," Jen said desperately scraping her hair back and clipping it into place with a grip

"I can't believe you did that to me," Jen said desperately scraping her hair back and clipping it into place with a grip. She slid a sideways at Jethro driving from the passenger seat.

"I didn't hear you complaining at the time…" he answered, his eyes flicking momentarily from the road to look at her, his eyes gleaming, even in the shadows throwing themselves around the car.

Jen's eyes squinted a little and her jaw twitched. "Of course I enjoyed it, Jethro, but now we're late!" she said looking at her watch which told her it was 2110 hours. "The reservation was for 2100. And what's more, you knew exactly what you were doing…"

Gibbs smirked. Whatever hold she thought he had over her, it was nothing to the hold she had over him. It hadn't been him that had made it happen in the bathroom that night, but her, standing there in that towel. He just couldn't resist her, the water trickling across her soft skin, the fluffy white towel barely skimming her butt. She was just so damn…irresistible. She had tasted so sweet, smelled so good, felt so soft, every minute he was with her it was struggle to keep his hands to himself.

"How far away are we away?" Jen said peering out the dark window, trying to make out where they were.

"Almost there,"

"Drop me off out front and I'll go grab our table."

His head spun to face her, "Not a chance in Hell,"

"Jethro, road, and if our table has been given away by the time that…"

"No, Jen. You are not going in alone," he said looking back at the road.

"If we miss our reservation…"

The car sped up as Jethro pressed his foot to the floor.

"…or die," Jen finished as she reached over and held his arm as she was pushed back into her seat.

There was no way she was going in there alone. They were undercover and very good at what they did; they wouldn't have been trusted with the Paris Op's if they weren't. The chance that she would be discovered was minimal, but it was still there. He couldn't bear to have her that far away from him, knowing that if something did happen, he wouldn't be able to do anything.

This happened every mission that they did, he couldn't let her get 5 feet of him without his stomach folding in two. There was a reason they were trained not to get too close to their partners, and he had always told himself that he would never let it get that far, he would never let his feelings get involved in a case. That had gone well. The moment he laid eyes on her, the first day they had met in the Paris HQ, he knew exactly what would happen. And he had been right, they hadn't even lasted a week, unable to keep their hands off one another. She ran so deep in him now that sometimes all he needed to do was hold her in his arms, have her close and he would be content. She knew how to make him smile, how to make him laugh, how to make him happy. He couldn't even comprehend a life without her.

"Jethro, the restaurant was back…"

"You are not going in alone, Jen. End of." His eyes staring out into the cold night.

"I can look after myself, Jethro," she said her voice rising.

"I aware of that, Jen, but I would prefer it if you didn't have to."

"Jethro, you have to learn to let me go in on my own sometimes," she said her voice softening, she loved the concern her felt for her.

"No I don't," he answered simply, spying a parking place and swinging the car round into to it.

"What?" Jen said laughing a little, "You can't just say 'No, I don't'"

"Yes I can." He said stopping the engine and looking over to her. His eyes full of love for the woman in front of him but hard with stubbornness.

"Jethro you can't just decide that…"

He reached over and pulled her into him, kissing her furiously. The gearshift dug angrily into his abdomen as he leaned over it to reach her, but he didn't care, he half didn't even notice, his thoughts so preoccupied with her.

The kiss was unexpected, and her mind fell from thoughts of the previous discussion and became focused on one thing, pushing her body into responding to the kiss. She barely had time to breath as his tongue entered her mouth, sending fire down to her stomach.

As soon as he had initiated it, he broke away. She stared at him, her mouth still open slightly. She saw the pleading look in his eyes; he was letting his guard down. She closed her mouth and breathed deeply. There was nothing she wouldn't do for this man. She cared for him so deeply it took her breath away, how had she become so attached to someone in so little time?

She leant forwards and kissed him on the lips, slow and gentle. No tongues, just a simple kiss, reassuring him. She backed off and smiled softly.

"We'd better get going, we have a mission to complete."


	3. Chapter 3

They ran laughing towards the open door of the restaurant, his hand clasped tightly in hers as the first few heavy drops of ra

They ran laughing towards the open door of the restaurant, his hand clasped tightly in hers as the first few heavy drops of rain began to fall from the sky. Jen ducked for cover as they reached the door and slowed as she stepped into the restaurant. Jethro came up behind her, his hands sliding around her waist as he planted a kiss lightly into her hair.

"You get wet?" he said laughing as they sidled their way forwards to the waiter standing ready to greet them.

"Only a little," she replied, her voice quiet as she felt his body against her back.

Jen smiled as the met the waiter, "Reservation for two, under the name Jibbs? Yes that's the one…"

The waiter smiled and started to direct them to their table. Jen followed, Jethro a step behind. They came to their table and silently thanked the waiter as Jethro pulled out a chair for Jen to sit down, before sitting down himself.

"See, what did I say," he said, "Everything's fine, and they didn't give away our table."

Jen looked up from the menu she was glancing down at and pulled a face.

"That's mature," he said, although the smile was evident on his face. "What are you thinking of having?" he said looking down at his own menu.

"Jethro, we've only just got here!" she said, "I haven't had time to…"

"I'm going with the Steak Au Poivre," he said closing his menu and staring over his open-mouthed date.

"You've decided already?" she gaped.

"I've heard its good," he said shrugging.

She raised a brow before closing her own menu and placing it on top of his. "Steak Au Poivre it is."

She always knew how to make him smile. "Have you seen them yet?" he asked bringing up the real reason they were there.

"Three tables to the left of the large mirror behind you." She said, not missing a beat. Amongst the flirting and the banter, neither of them had forgotten their goal, sweeping the room as they had come in, silently watching as they had picked their meals. Well, he had picked their meals.

"I saw that Fresco had a briefcase by the side of his chair, is it still there?" he asked. This time it was Jen who was the eyes and ears, facing the right direction.

"Yep, still there," she said idly playing with her knife.

"Can you see who he's with? Their back was turned to me as we came in."

"No, they're still facing the other way."

"Can you work out anything they're saying?"

"Not from this distance, I can't make out the words."

He leaned back in his chair staring over at her, "You know, you really do look beautiful tonight."

"Stop it, we're here for a reason, Jethro," she said, although she let slip a small smile.

"Who says we can't enjoy it at the same time?" he grinned.

"Listen, I've got an idea," she said, cutting into the conversation, "Their table is just in front of the door to the bathroom, if I can get pass their table on the way then I think I can get this," she said pulling out a small bug from her purse, "near enough so we can actually hear something."

He didn't like it but he knew it was the only way they were going to get anything out of tonight. Anything to do with the mission anyway.

"Just be careful, don't let him see you for too long, he might recognize you from that time at The Louvre."

"I've told you, he didn't see me, he was looking at the person behind me."

"Just, be careful," he repeated his blue eyes staring deep into hers.

"I'm always careful," she said, throwing him a teasing grin.

He stroked her arm as she passed by him, leaving the table. He hoped to God, she wasn't recognized.

Damn it, Jethro. That last touch had thrown her. How was she supposed to concentrate with him managing to get whole body to react to one brief touch? Composing herself as she moved closer to the table she held the bug safely in the closed palm of her left hand. Her heart beat a little faster as she came up to the table; this was it, now or never.

Her hand brushed the back of the chair where Fresco was sitting and she let the tiny metallic instrument fall from her fist. She glanced down quickly and sucked in some air as she watched it fall neatly into place, sliding into the pocket of his dinner jacket, draped carefully over the back of his chair. Without looking back she walked straight to the toilets, not allowing the happy smile that wanted to escape onto her face.

He held his breath as he watched her slip by them in the small mirror he had placed on their table. He saw the brush of the hand and smiled as he knew what she had done. She had done it flawlessly too, if he hadn't have known beforehand, he wouldn't have noticed it himself. Anxiously he watched for any change of expression on Fresco's face, if he knew he had just been bugged. None. He let out the air that he had been holding in his lungs and watched as she disappeared into the ladies bathroom. He could swear he saw her mouth twitch slightly as though she was trying to hide a smile.

She looked stunning in that dress, she always did. He had joked only the other day to her, that he would quite happily see her in a bin bag and he would take his breath away. They hadn't put it to the test yet, but he had a feeling his words hadn't been entirely untrue. Tonight she had the most gorgeous black dress on, simple yet elegant, hugging her figure. When she walked she made it move with her, turning the dress into more than just a piece of fabric. Her hair was pulled out of her face tonight, but it fell down her back, skimming her shoulder blades. She literally made his heart stand still.

He watched in the mirror as Fresco…wait. What was he doing? Fresco had got up from his seat and was walking towards the door to the toilets. He was going to meet her coming back out. His heart stopped in his chest, and he clutched the mirror hard as his worst fear came to life and the door to the ladies toilet swang open. He saw the look of surprise on her face but she covered it up well, keeping on her course. She tried desperately to avoid him but they collided and his fingers ran up her arm before he placed a palm solidly on her shoulder. Jethro seethed inside as he watched her touch her, he had his hands all over her, clutching at her shoulder and other arm. The sound of blood rushing pounded in his ears. He felt his hold on the mirror become a little too strong and he loosened it a bit focusing on the reflections on the two of them.

Crap, crap, crap. There he was walking towards her, they were going to walk straight into each other. Why hadn't she stayed into the toilets for just a couple more seconds? Oh, that's right, because she was Jennifer Shepard; she had to do things the hard way. She hung her head and looked at the floor as he closed in on her, trying to move to the right so he could pass without knocking fully into her. He wasn't having any of it.

"Woah, sorry there, Miss…" he looked at her, his eyes looking her over. Se felt his hand skim her skin as he ran his fingers up her arm. She compressed a shiver as her stomach dropped the equivalent height of the Eiffel Tower.

"…Jibbs," she said, forcing a smile. "And it's Mrs.,"

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Mrs. Jibbs." He said, his eyes a dark brown. If she wasn't on a mission and already attached to Jethro, there might have been a time when she would have fallen for those eyes, so deep and inviting. But not now.

"I'm sure," she said trying to move away from him.

"Hey, don't I recognize you?" he said keeping a hand firmly on her arm.

Double crap. "No, I don't think so," she said her eyes flicking across to Jethro were she could see he had risked turning round to watch their conversation. She saw the look in his eyes and new that if she gave a signal he would be here in a second, taking her into his arms and releasing her from under the vile touch of the man stood so close to her. But she couldn't. There was the mission to complete.

"Are you sure, I definitely…"

"I'm afraid you must be mistaken," she said, her head silently shouting for Jethro to come and rescue her. But she knew he wouldn't despite how much he wanted to. She knew it was killing him, watching her so close to another man, a man who could cause so much danger for the two of them. "Now, if you don't mind, I really must get back to my husband…"

"Of course," Fresco replied, giving her one last look before releasing his grip on her. "It was nice meeting you…um…"

"Lauren," she said offhand, immediately regretting it. The name had rolled off her tongue effortlessly as they had practiced their covers over and over. She should have stuck with Mrs. Jibbs. Now he had more information on her than she was willing to give him. The more he knew, the closer he was to finding out.

"Lauren. It was nice to meet you, Lauren." The way he said her name caused her stomach to clench so violently and she wanted to retreat back into the ladies bathroom to throw up. She forced another smile onto her face and turned her back to him walked quickly towards Jethro, who seeing Fresco let go of Jen, had turned back round in his chair, knowing that she would joining him any minute.

She walked briskly to their table and placed a hand on his shoulder as she passed him to sit down.

"That was too close, Jen." He said, his voice calm but she could tell he was using all the strength he had not to rush around the table and scoop her into his arms.

"I know, I think I even stopped breathing for a second there…" she said staring back at him.

He watched her in silence, connecting his gaze with hers, searching her for any sign that she wasn't ok, that she needed him to touch her, hold her. She blinked and he saw her defenses crumbling and she reached a hand across the table. His hand immediately jumped across the table too, meeting with hers in the middle. Their fingers laced together and she held on to him hard, taking in every last drop of the strength he was giving her. She went to say something but a waiter interrupted her.

"Steak Au Poivre?" He said, looking at the two of them.


	4. Chapter 4

Jethro watched as she closed her lips around the fork and pulled the piece of steak off the fork slowly, her teeth scraping th

Jethro watched as she closed her lips around the fork and pulled the piece of steak off the fork slowly, her teeth scraping the fork slightly. How could someone make eating that i_sexy/i_? She knew he was watching and she ran her tongue over her bottom lip licking away the peppered sauce that lay there. The salty mixture ran over her tongue and it took everything in him not to push the table out from between them and pull her to him and kiss her deeply; his own tongue begging to taste the rich **peppercorny** sauce, and to taste her. God, how he wanted to taste her.

"Jethro?" Jen said noticing his eyes had glazed over.

"Er…yeah?" he said his eyes coming back into focus.

She laughed and he saw her eyes flicker over to the table where Fresco was sitting. They both had earwigs in listening in on what was being said and Fresco had just mentioned the briefcase.

i"_Yeah, I have the briefcase, its right down here. Here let me show you…_/i

Jethro was watching Jen at this moment, searching her face for indications of what was happening behind him. Something caught his attention in the corner of his eye.

"Jen, duck!" he said reaching forwards and grabbing her wrist. He leaned out of his chair and pulled her towards him so she fell from her own. They collapsed on the floor, his arms around her as she heard the zing cut through the air above them.

"What the hell?" she said craning her neck round to see the shooter. A man was stood up at one of the tables that had been behind her, pointing a gun across the room. She twisted around to see a man slouching in his chair across from him, a red stain seeping through the front of his crisp white shirt. The man to the left of him reached over and grabbed something from the belt of the man's body, standing up to reveal a Glock in his steady hand.

Jethro reached to his own belt but Jen placed a hand over his.

"We're still undercover remember," she said her voice calm but noticeably rattled after the shot. He looked from shooter to victim and he linked it up in his mind. His stomach jolted at the thought of what would have happened if he hadn't caught sight of the shooter moments before he released the bullet and pulled her to safety. It would have been a direct hit.

"Not if it means people die, Jen," he said, his hand still at his waistband.

Another shot was fired overhead and they heard a crash from somewhere in the restaurant. Crouched nearer to the floor, Jethro held an arm over her head, holding her to him. Was there someone else joining in the shootout?

He felt Jen's head turn and look towards the table they were meant to be observing and he knew what was going to happen before she said it.

"Jethro, they're moving…" he heard her say from somewhere in amongst all the cries and shouts now flying around the restaurant. She moved away from him and he grabbed her wrist harshly.

"Jen, no. It's to dangerous, let them go."

"I can't!" she said twisting out of his grip as he tried to hold on to her.

Another zing rang out above the din from the room and he was distracted for the tiniest fraction but when he turned back he saw her at least a few tables down, making her way towards Fresco. Damn it woman, did she ever listen?

He turned back to the shootout trying to ignore the horrible wrenching of his gut telling him to run after her. He had to do something to stop this. If he couldn't innocent people were going to die.

Jen made her way towards the table watching as she saw Fresco dart from his seat. She sped up, oblivious to the people surrounding her, rushing to take cover from the hail of bullets above them. She was thrown sideways with shock as something hit the huge ornate mirror close to Fresco's table and it came crashing down to the floor, shattering in front of her eyes. She was almost at the table and her eyes raced around the room. Where was he? She couldn't have lost him already?

Jethro looked around the room surveying the damage. From what he could see there were three shooters, maybe four. The first shooter was down, a nicely aimed bullet from the second shooter's sig lodged neatly into the front of his skull. That left a possible three for him to deal with, two at the least.

He drew his gun and aimed it across the room, rising from his cover slightly to improve his aim. He squeezed off three rounds, two of them hitting one of the remaining shooter's chest and the other burying itself into the mans right arm. He watched as the man fell to the floor, the gun dropping with an unheard clatter next to him.

Jen's eyes searched the room frantically. She couldn't have lost him; they had been so close to completing this mission. What the hell had happened to make it go so wrong! She reached up and grabbed the side of a nearby table and pulled herself up to half height. She let out a breath as she finally saw him slip empty-handed through a door marked 'Staff-only'. Empty handed. Where was the briefcase?

Jethro searched for the next shooter seeing him taking cover behind a pillar near the fire exit at the end of the room. He aimed the gun and this time wasn't so lucky as the bullet grazed the pillar and rebounded into the wall behind it. The shooter, knowing he had been seen, hid completely behind the pillar now, and Jethro lost his shot. He twisted his head and decided that there had indeed only been three shooters and he must have been mistaken, there was no one else holding a gun in the restaurant.

"NCIS, Freeze!" he shouted, gun still trained at the damaged pillar. "Come out with you hands up and throw your weapon to the ground."

Silence echoed and Jethro made his way slowly towards the pillar. "Show yourself!" he shouted.

It all happened in a flash as he saw man jump out from behind the pillar and twist the gun in his direction. He pumped his finger on the trigger and watched as the shooter collapsed, blood spattering on the wall behind him, but not before he made a few shots of his own.

Jen spotted the briefcase, still there beside the chair and she grabbed it in her left hand as she, still half-crouching, ran after Fresco. She made it to the door and crashed through it, gun drawn. She had entered the kitchen and was met with the wide eyes of a number of frightened staff, most of them foreign. Many of them wouldn't have working permits she told herself, walking past them, everyone of them trying to get as far away from her as possible. She clutched the briefcase tighter in her hand as she made it to the opposite end of the room filled with cookers and fryers. She stepped through the door that was still swinging from the previous user and burst out onto an alleyway behind the restaurant. She turned wildly to hear the screeching of tires and she yelled as she watched the car speed away from her. She managed to land a couple of bullets in the rear bumper and shatter the back window but nothing that kept them from fleeing. She swore loudly as she yanked her head back and looked up at the sky. She had let them get away.

He felt the sting before he knew what had happened and felt his hand automatically jerk to his shoulder. He looked down at the red stain and ripped off the shoulder of his shirt, trying to see how much damage had been caused. It was only a scratch, but it significant enough to cause him discomfort. Gritting his teeth he pulled the shirt back over the wound and froze at the sound of laughter behind him. He swang round and swayed a little as pain struck him in the shoulder from where he had automatically raised his gun and taken aim at the man laughing.

"You're too late," he said, waving a gun through the air.

"For what," he said, his stomach freefalling as his mind raced to Jen.

"Its already happened," he said hand with the gun in still flailing dangerously.

"What has happened? And drop your weapon," he said, his aim steady as the man's expression changed. The smile wiped from his face and instead his eyes turned dark and hard.

"Now see, that's just not nice." The man raised his arm, the barrel of the gun turning quickly to face Jethro. Jethro let off two rounds that hit the man squarely in the forehead. He fell backwards, the same expression etched into his face, a look of malice and anger, with not a hint of surprise. It was almost as if he had known that the whole of this was futile, that he was going to die. Even with suspects that know there is no way out, some amount of shock registered as the bullet hit, but this guy was different. He hadn't been afraid to die.

Shaking himself from thoughts of such a cold human being, he frantically searched the room from Jen and he felt his mouth go dry. He couldn't see her anywhere. What had the man meant by 'you're too late'? Too late for what?

Jen kicked her foot angrily against the metal skip against the wall in the alleyway. She rested her head on the rim of it before closing her eyes in disgust. They had been so close, and yet they had still got away. He had been about to give the briefcase…the briefcase! It was still clutched in her hand and she lifted it up eagerly on top of the skip, balancing it on top of an overturned wooden table. Adrenaline began to pump around her body again as she realized that not all might be lost. Her fingers shook slightly as they played with the locks. Please, luck be on her side. She gave a yelp of excitement as the locks clicked open with a flick of her thumbs and her eyes buzzed with anticipation as she lifted the black leather lid.

What the hell? The dark leather briefcase was filled with mounds of shredded newspaper. She brushed her hands through it angrily, looking for anything that might be hidden underneath. Had they been set-up?

She was too busy to notice the man standing behind her but she noticed the cloth that he forced against her nose and mouth. She screamed into the mucky material as the strong scent of chloroform invaded her throat. She began to choke as she struggled in his grip, her hands clawing at the man's grip on her face. She felt herself blacking out as the strong urge to vomit overtook her body. The world was sliding from view and she felt herself slumping; the energy draining from her fingers as she made less and less of an effort to free herself. Her last thought was of Jethro, standing in the middle of the restaurant, his eyes looking for her but not seeing. She begged to herself that the look he had given her as she had left him only a few minutes ago would not be the last look she saw from him. She longed for him to hold her in his arms again, just once; to tell him she loved him. She couldn't leave him like this, not like this. She needed to say…

She slumped against her captor and he laughed as he lifted her limp body into his arms.

"Surprise."


	5. Chapter 5

Jen felt her vision clearing and the room began to spin into focus

Jen felt her vision clearing and the room began to spin into focus. She was in a sitting position and could feel her hands and ankles tied to the wooden frame of the chair she felt underneath her. A rush of bile swept to her throat and she couldn't stop herself from throwing up little bit of Steak Au Poivre she had had time to eaten. She lurched to the side and her throat burned as the pepper sauce flooded her throat.

She coughed hoarsely and regained composure, sitting back up in the chair, wiping her mouth on her shoulder. Now that she looked around, the room was still a little hazy but she could make out the huge mirror in front of her. She moved her head around a little too quick and a fresh wave nausea hit her, this time not quite caused her to throw up. She closed her eyes as the dizziness faded, tightening her grip on the chair. She opened her eyes slowly and looked around. She was a small dark room, 5 by 5 meters at the most. Almost the entire of the wall she faced was taken up by the mirror and from what she guessed, the door to the room must have been behind her.

"Jennifer Shepard,"

Jen's heart beat in her chest and adrenaline flooded her body. The shock of the loud voice booming voice would have made her jump up from her chair had she been able to. Instead she struggled against her restraints.

"Who is that?" she shouted, still twisting her wrists trying to loosen the ropes bound around them.

A bright light switched on above her and she blinked as it burnt her eyes. The realization hit her as she worked out she was in a makeshift interrogation room. The mirror at the end of the room hiding what was probably a room holding any number of people watching her.

"What do you want?" she asked her eyes squinting at the glass. Silence filled the room and she continued to struggle with her restraints, but now making it less noticeable. They were watching her after all.

The room was thrown into darkness as the lights were shut off. The black air pushed at her eyes as her pupils tried furiously to adjust to the change in brightness. She opened and closed her eyes a few times, and slowly she began to make out shapes. She could just about make out the mirror again and she strained her eyes in an effort to see if in the current darkness, she could see anything the other side of the glass.

The lights flashed back on again and she jumped back in her chair, snapping her eyelids shut and letting out a small yell. The light somehow seemed brighter than before, maybe it was. She couldn't let them see how they were affecting her and she opened her eyes, gritting her teeth through the blinding brightness.

They did it a couple more times, each time waiting until her eyes had adjusted before flicking the switch. She never took her eyes off the mirror, staring her captors out; blinking every time the light changed but continually staring, letting them know that they could do this forever and she would stay strong. They would be able to see it in her eyes, even if she was blinded they would be able to see. Still, as ever, she twisting her wrists in their binds. She could feel the skin grating away as the harsh rope cut into her, but still, she carried on.

The light flashed on again and this time there was a loud buzzing noise reverberating around the room. Her reflexes made her wrists pull hard on the rope tying them to the chair as she tried to cover her ears. Obviously she couldn't and she had to suffer the high-pitched sound waves filling her head. Her head hurt as she struggled to keep from screaming. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

Thankfully the noise finally stopped and she was surprised as this time the light stayed on. The shock was obviously evident on her face.

"Happy for a break, Jennifer?" a voice boomed out into the tiny room. It was too loud for such a small room and Jen felt the wood vibrate under her palms.

"Oh, I could do this all day," she said leaning back as much as she could in her chair. "The question is, could you?"

The lights flickered off in answer and she braced herself for another round. Her wrists were burning and she couldn't be sure in the darkness, but she thought she could feel the cold sensation of her own blood running from her wounds. The light's snapped back on and she looked down, proved right. The wood began to stain a deep red as she flexed her hands. Pain shot up her arm but she didn't allow it to register in her expression. She wasn't going to let them win that easily.

"What's your name?" the voice stated. The man had taken no effort to disguise his voice, but she didn't recognize it as Fresco's.

"Clearly you already know it," she said, the sarcasm etched in her words.

"What's your name," the man repeated.

"Jennifer Shepard." She let her voice catch on the last syllable and let it roll off her tongue.

"And who do you work for?"

"My boss." She said smiling.

"Who is…"

"Mickey Mouse," she said but her smile was broken as she felt the metal contacts that she had failed to notice earlier attached underneath her shirt to the bare skin of her back, send a pulse of electricity through her body. She was caught off-guard and she let out a scream as her back jolted and she convulsed. It only lasted a second but it was long enough.

A laugh came over the sound system that sent a chill to her stomach. "Ready to play now, Jennifer?"


	6. Chapter 6

Blood boiled inside Jethro as the young officer repeated what he had said 5 seconds earlier and cowered in front of him

Blood boiled inside Jethro as the young officer repeated what he had said 5 seconds earlier and cowered in front of him.

"Um…as I said…Miss Shepard can't be found right at this…"

Jethro moved closer to the man and he flinched.

"You go back out there and you search for her, do you hear me!"

The man scurried away to find his superior while Jethro turned away and looked out the shattered window onto the street. His mouth was dry and his throat was closing up on him. Jen was missing. He hadn't been told that _he_ had her yet, but he knew; his gut told him. He sickened as he thought of Fresco, of what he might be doing to her right now, and the fact there was nothing he could do. His hands shook as he looked for someone else to question, they had to find her, and quick.

He walked over to the shattered window and knocked some of the remaining shards from the frame closest to him. It was a ceiling to floor window so he was able to lean against its frame now there was no glass stopping him. He looked out onto the street and watched the various policemen and women go about their job, talking to witnesses, collecting evidence. As an NCIS agent he had been given clearance to be involved in the investigation but only in an observatory manner, he was barred from actually doing any of the work. It frustrated him as it usually did when he was forced to watch and not take part; but this time it was different, this time it was Jen and she changed everything. Her life was in danger and he had to do something; time would be running out.

Jethro caught a smell of tobacco and gin and turned around to find a unshaven man looking back at him.

"You must be Gibbs," he growled in a heavy French accent, extending a hand over to him. Jethro accepted it but mentally shook the man for speaking in English. He had been undercover here for 6 months, did the French police force think that was stupid enough to attempt that without knowing the French language? He knew it was out of courtesy, but it still annoyed him.

"Any news?" he said roughly, knowing without asking that this was the man in charge.

"Don't worry we'll get the girl back," he said smiling and revealing a yellow set of teeth.

Jethro's body temperature rose a couple of degrees, _that girl_? That girl was Jen, his Jen; and he would be damned if anyone was going to make a mockery of this investigation

"I'll ask only once more, is there any news?" he said, not returning the smile.

The man looked visibly annoyed that his attempts to lighten the mood had been swept under the carpet. His face fell and his voice changed, becoming more serious.

"We've got the security footage from the cameras in the restaurant and kitchens, as well as the back alleyway."

Jethro's mind buzzed, why the back alleyway?

"If you'd like to take a look…" the policeman replied stepping backwards to motion towards a door to the side. Jethro shot him a look that diminished the need for the words 'ya think?'

He was shown into the small room and saw the freeze frame on the monitor. His heart jumped as he made out himself crouching over Jen. _That might have been the last time you…_ Jethro took a seat in front of the monitor and nodded to the young policeman from earlier who was sat beside him with the remote.

The video played and Jethro was forced to watch as Jen made her away across the room. From this angle he got a clear view on who was shooting at whom. There _had _been 4 shooters; each one from a random place around the room, standing up and producing a gun. That was off; surely there isn't that many people carrying in Paris, people who were also willing to use such firearms with that amount of ease.

He continued to watch as he saw her pause for the tiniest moment by what had been Fresco's table.

"Wait, replay that bit," he said leaning in on the screen.

The young officer did what he was told, "It's the briefcase, Sir; she picks it up."

Jethro stared as for the second time she did indeed pick up the briefcase. Clever…but ultimately could have been the wrong move.

The video continued playing and Jethro watched as she made her way through one of the staff doors. The officer paused it and clicked a button that made the screen flash to a different camera. This time she was walking through what seemed to be the kitchen, her gun visible. His felt his heart rate rise. They switched again to another camera and watched as Jen made her way out into an empty alleyway. He saw her scream out into the air; obviously annoyed she had lost Fresco. She was alone in the small passageway and Jethro watched as she placed the briefcase on top of one of the skips, flicking it open. From this angle they couldn't see what was inside the briefcase but from the look on Jen's face, it wasn't good.

Jethro's eyes jumped to the figure that was moving behind Jen and everything hit at once. He half wanted to turn away, he couldn't bear to watch what he knew was going to happen, but he couldn't take his eyes off the screen. He saw her try and scream into the cloth and he stood up from his chair unable to sit anymore, his hands shaking with anger and fear. Bile rose in his throat as he was forced to watch the scene on the small glass monitor; Fresco's hands, because it was Fresco, were all over her, touching her mouth and face. Fresco slid an arm round her waist, pulling her into him and it was all Jethro could do to not let out a yell of rage.

His head span as he saw her struggle, the chloroform taking affect. She became limp in Fresco's arms and Jethro watched as he swept her up, clutching her unconscious body to him. He moved towards the screen as he watched them walk out of sight, out of shot.

"Next camera," Jethro managed to hiss through gritted teeth,

The young officer tried to speak but no words came out, instead the unshaven man that smelt of tobacco answered for him.

"That's all we have."

"That's it?" Jethro shouted, his temples throbbing.

"We loose them after that."

Jethro pushed past the Officer and threw the door open with a bang, he couldn't stand being in that room any longer. The world was swimming in front of his eyes as he tried to focus. What rational thought he had left was trying to speak out over his racing pulse. This was a mission Jethro, snap out of it, Jen needs you to be at your best right now.

He looked over to a female officer standing in the middle of the room, looking a little lost. Truth be told, there were too many officers here with too little to do.

"You," he shouted over, "You're with me."


	7. Chapter 7

"Name

_Sorry about the delay guys…my internet decided to stop working, grr…but I have a back-up now._

"Name?" he said looking over as the young female Officer got into the passenger seat next to him.

"Angela Wellings, Sir," she said in a timid voice.

"Gibbs," he said looking her at her, her red hair pulled back into a tight bun at the back of her head. He didn't know what it was about redheads that got him, and even within that, it was only a select few. There was something that presented itself in the girl in front of him; something that had made him pick her out of the crowd of Officers that had been in that room. He cursed at himself for being so impatient with the French Police Force, but things needed to get done, and as much confidence he had in them, he had more in himself.

He started the engine and turned to Wellings.

"Where to?"

Angela's eyes opened wide in shock, "you're asking me?"

Jethro didn't say anything, his eyes speaking for him.

"Well, I guess…um…we could check out his house?"

Gibbs stared again, his eyes a little wider.

"Oh! Follow this road…"

Her quiet voice was drowned out by the roaring of the engine as the car lurched forwards and she was thrown back into her seat. They shot off, leaving the destroyed restaurant behind them.

He drove on semi-autopilot, his hands and feet reacting to the directions that Angela told him, but his mind was somewhere completely different. Snapshots kept flashing through his mind. The close-call, the bullet flying above them, the look on her face as he knew she was going to go after Fresco, that last moment where his fingers had lost touch of her. He couldn't stop the images from coming. They had been in Paris for just over 6 months now. They'd completed numerous missions, and although admittedly with differing amounts, they all had their danger. This was the first time something had gone wrong.

She tried desperately to avoid him but they collided and his fingers ran up her arm before he placed a palm solidly on her shoulder.

The moment Fresco had bumped into her. They should have stopped the entire thing then. The moment he saw her face; the moment the possibility that he recognized her was there. The act of walking by his table and bugging him had been dangerous enough but actually coming face to face with him? It had taken everything Jethro had in him right then, not to jump from his chair and run to her. He could have recognized her, he could have grabbed her, he could have…but none of that mattered now. Regardless of the encounter they had carried on, not letting it get in the way of their mission.

Something caught his attention in the corner of his eye.

The moment the bullet had soared across the room, only missing the back of Jen's head because of his own quick reactions. If they didn't stop the mission before, they should have stopped it then. The moment her life had become endangered they should have stopped there and then, instead turning their attention to calling a halt to the violent gunfight. But no, she had insisted she complete the mission, she had insisted on going after them, putting herself in danger. She was like that; she saw everything she did through to the end. It was a compulsion for her, she got given a task and she would see it through to the end, not letting anything get in her way. He admired her for it; it was a strength as well as a weakness. She had determination and guts, but she could let it cloud her judgment; let it get in the way. There were times when she frustrated him; she was so fiery and stubborn. She got under his skin with such ease, and taken a place in his heart that he never thought would be used again since the death of Shannon and Kelly.

"I can't!" she said twisting out of his grip as he tried to hold on to her.

The last time he had touched her, felt the warmth of her skin next to his own. Now his hands felt cold, his entire body ached to hold her again. It was the simple things that got him the most. The chance that he would never again put on a necklace for her, gently grazing the back of her neck with his knuckles; entwine his fingers with hers as they walked through the busy streets of Paris; scrape back a wayward strand of auburn hair behind her ear. Perhaps the weirdest thing of all was what he would miss most was the feeling of not touching her at all; the feeling of being so close to her but not quite feeling her against him. Feeling his skin jump with excitement as her body moved inches from teasing his, taunting him. Earlier that night when they had traveled down in the elevator from their hotel room. She had stood in front of him, oblivious to his trembling hands behind her. He had been testing himself, seeing if he could resist her. He had made himself stand, watching her but not allowing himself to touch; trying to see if Leroy Jethro Gibbs was still his own man. The moment he had rushed forwards, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the nape of her neck he knew. They had almost done it right there, again. His eyes had flicked towards the emergency stop switch more than once. There was nothing he could do, the woman was quite literally irresistible to him. He was hers.

…he was distracted for the tiniest fraction but when he turned back he saw her at least a few tables down, making her way towards Fresco.

The last time he had seen her. The last time his eyes had fallen prisoner to the sight that was Jennifer Shepard. Even crouched to the ground, darting between tables in a restaurant under attack, she still looked graceful. He had watched her move further and further away from him, making the most difficult decision in his life, not to go after her. He knew he had done the right thing, staying behind and taking care of the shootout. For all he had known they had been the only law enforcement agents in the restaurant, it was their duty to help out. Countless people would have died, been injured. It was not his right to put Jen's life above those. Yet there was that small part of him, the devil's advocate that leaned on his shoulders, telling him he should have gone after her, forgotten about all those people. There would always be that doubt in the bottom of his stomach until they got her back, the chance that he had made the wrong decision, that he should of gone after her. The debate of her life against the others in that restaurant played heavily on his mind but the was only right answer to him. He had been right; apart from the original shooters, they had been the only ones armed in the room.

Jethro was interrupted from his thoughts as a phone rang out into the car. His hand immediately jumped to his pocket and his heart jumped. Jen?

His palm felt the stillness of his phone and he looked over to see Angela answered her own. He cursed at himself for feeling false hope, for letting himself think of the possibility it had been her. It only made it sting harder that she wasn't with him.

"Wellings…yes sir…I'm with him now sir…Fresco's house sir…I'll tell him sir…goodb…"

She looked slightly hurt at the buzzing of the dial tone in her ear as he had cut her off, but her face quickly changed.

"Sir said to tell you not to do anything until they get there too."

"…"

"and to tell you that they have got a tentative death count…"

"…and…"

"2 and 1 severely injured."

Jethro let out some air, 2 people dead was a relatively low death toll, it could have been much higher. He pushed his foot further to the floor as they traveled faster still through the streets of Paris.

"Um, sir…I mean Gibbs…we are going to wait for them, right?"

"…"


	8. Chapter 8

She kept telling herself that with each shock she would become number, that the pain would become just a dull twinge

She kept telling herself that with each shock she would become number, that the pain would become just a dull twinge. But she knew it wouldn't. She gritted her teeth as she felt the electricity pulse through her body again. She refused to give them the satisfaction of her scream; she was stronger than that.

"Tell me, Jennifer," came the voice, "Are you enjoying our little game?"

"Are you?" she said, looking back at the dirty mirror.

"Of course," he said, quite convincing in his happy tone, "I feel that we are getting to know each other better now."

"I'm delighted…" she said before being shocked once more.

"I thought you'd have learnt the rules by now, pity. You will have to learn to keep that pretty little mouth of yours in line."

"Who are you," Jen repeated for not the second time that day.

"That's another thing you don't seem to have picked up on…I ask the questions."

"So its like a gameshow…" she said, bracing herself for the next shock. It never came.

"Seems to me you aren't responding very well to these little shocks I'm giving you."

"Ya think?" Too much time with Jethro.

"Well I have another little surprise for you, I think you'll like this one."

Jen's stomach dropped another thirty foot. "What is it?"

"Well that would just spoil the surprise now wouldn't it?"

The lights blacked out and Jen was once again thrown into darkness. The dark air crept into her skin and she gave an involuntary shiver as she could feel the room go cold. Her fingers trembled and the wounds around her wrists stung as she fidgeted in her chair. She could hear own heartbeat beat steadily into the silence. What was coming?

A light snapped on and it took a second for her to realize it came from behind the mirror, from the room the other side. She stared as she made out the outline of a house being projected onto a dirty wall. She realized she was being shown a video. The man behind the camera walked in through the open door, into the house, and made their way to the kitchen. He opened the door to fridge and Jen gasped as she saw the entire thing filled with explosives. The door shut and they were shown the next room. The man, still from behind the camera, removed one of the cushions from a settee to show yet more explosives. Jen squirmed in her restraints.

She was shown a few other stashes of the explosives in various places around the house before the camera was taken back out from the house and they made their way back across the road. They were taken inside a car from where the camera stayed, observing the front of the house.

"Are you ready, Jen?"

"Ready for what?" Jen answered her voice on edge. She couldn't think why they were showing her this. Was she in this house, along with the explosives, locked in some basement? She couldn't work it out.

Then she saw the car pull up outside the house and her mouth went dry. She wanted to scream, warn them of the explosives in the house but she couldn't; they wouldn't hear. She shook in her chair as she watched Jethro and a young redheaded female officer get out of the car and walk to the front door of the house. Jen's throat felt tight and she felt her chest contracting. She pulled desperately at the ropes at her wrists and the wounds from earlier that had began to heal were ripped open again as she struggled to get free. Blood flowed freely as she watched through blurred eyes at the projection in the far room. Jethro and the girl were walking through the house, guns drawn.

The chair Jen was sitting on scraped across the stone floor as she pulled violently at her restraints. She was sobbing without control now and let out a gasp as one of her wrists managed to tear free and with her teeth gritted she managed to remove her other one too. She briefly took her eyes of the screen and looked at her ankles. She actually allowed herself to laugh as she quickly undid the loose ties. They had used handkerchiefs. She leapt from the chair and slammed into the glass, her hands balled into fists, pounding on what she first thought had been a mirror. She wiped her face with the back of her hand as she tried eagerly to brush away the tears. They had walked into the room with the settee now and she was being forced to watch.

"Are you ready to talk now, Jennifer?" came the voice.

She hesitated, only for the smallest fraction of a second, her loyalty to her job blinding her from what was happening in front of her. It was a second too long and the sound of the explosion was drowned out by the heart-wrenching scream that came from Jen's throat. Her face was pressed up against the glass and her fingers were splayed, trying to take in what had just happened. They had killed him; they had killed her Jethro.


	9. Chapter 9

I never intended for the torture in this piece to come this far

I never intended for the torture to get this far. This is the worst its going to get believe me.

The screen went black and Jen slid to the floor. Turning around so that the bare back that was exposed by her dress scraped angrily down the wall. She was struggling to breath in between the sobs. She didn't care about looking strong now, not now they had taken him from her. It seemed melodramatic and she kicked herself for it, but she couldn't see how she could go on. She felt like her heart had been ripped out from her chest and shredded in font of her. He had become her life; her soul. He had become the reason she woke up in the mornings, the reason she opened her eyes. Now that he had gone, what did she have left?

The door to the interrogation room clattered open and Jen instinctively covered her eyes from the bright light now seeping into the room. She peeped through her fingers, squinting, and saw a dark figure, silhouetted in the open door.

"You ready to talk now?"

"Never!" she screamed, removing her arm and screaming at the figure on the doorway. Before she knew it, she was on her feet, throwing herself at them. Her fingers clawed blindly and her eyes gleamed as she felt herself make contact. She was close enough now to see his face; it was Fresco. She smiled as she saw the gash on the side of his face, fresh and red. He raised a hand to his wound before grabbing her wrists and twisting her around and along so that he had he pinned to the wall. She shrieked as his rough hands pulled at the cuts around her wrists. He was undeniably strong.

He looked at her hand and his lip curled as he saw the wedding ring on her left hand, twisted around so that the bloodied stone was on show just above the top of her palm. She smiled at him, her eyes full of fire and malice.

She struggled against him but he was too strong, his vile body pushed against hers. She felt him eyeing her up, his eyes traveling to her lips. She turned her head to the side and felt the hot sting of tears as she continued to struggle.

She cried out as she felt his lips on her neck, his teeth biting down on her flesh. She tried to blink and clear her vision but it was no use, the tears kept coming. He was going to force himself on her, right here in the middle of this dirty room; force her to…

Somehow, she managed to slip her leg between her thighs and with all the strength she had left, she jerked her knee up into his groin. She felt him fold against her and she pushed him away. She tried to run for the door but he grabbed the back of her dress and pulled her back to him. He threw her across the room and she felt to the floor, skidding along the hard concrete. She turned and kicked out as she backed away from him, moving quickly away from him. She could see him leering above her as her back hit the wall and there was nowhere else to go. She could see his sickening smile; he knew he had her.

She screamed as he came nearer, her head spinning and her breathing becoming out of rhythm as she panicked. There had to be something, there had to be someway out. She didn't want to think about what was about to happen, anything but that…anything…

The shot came quickly, the sound ringing around the room. Her eyes widened as she watched his face fill with surprise. His eyes glazed and he fell to the ground, stumbling towards her, choosing to reach out to her with his arms instead of turning to see his killer. The blood seeped freely from the open wound, the bullet embedded into the wall about half a meter from Jen's head. She kicked at him as his hand made contact with her ankle, and his lifeless fingers where flicked from her. He was slumped onto the floor, a distinct lack of movement from his chest. Satisfied he was of no more danger she raised her eyes to the door to see a man holding a smoking gun.


	10. Chapter 10

Ok so I realized I made a mistake earlier and should have wrote 2 dead and 1 injured at the restaurant, not 4

_Ok so I realized I made a mistake earlier and should have wrote 2 dead and 1 injured at the restaurant, not 4!! __**headslap **__so bear that in mind in this chapter. _

The dust cleared and he pulled himself free from the rubble. The coffee table had flown into him, hitting him hard on his head but shielding him from the rest of the blast. Angela had not been so lucky.

He moved over to her crumpled body, the look of shock imprinted into her frozen features. He swept back the hair from her face and his face softened. He suspected early 20's, if that. Too young.

Her eyes were what got to him, staring up at him, blank yet full of emotion. He looked down at her glazed eyes and saw the fear and the pain staring back. He stared until he could stare no more and with one move of his hand he closed her eyes, freeing himself from having to feel her looking at him. He had picked her to come with him. Her death was his fault. He moved away from her body, sitting against the far wall. Her blood was seeping into the carpet, staining the olive material a deep scarlet. She had died because of him. How many more would it take? How many more deaths would it take before Jen was back in his arms? Or would it be Jen's own death that prevented that from happening.

He stayed there until he heard the sound of sirens approaching, just watching her body; guarding it. He heard the footsteps clattering down the path, the crash as the front door was thrown open and the shouts of French dialogue as they swept the building. It was the man that Jethro had dealt with earlier who entered the living room first.

"By God," his voice quiet, the sound barely making out of his harsh throat.

Jethro stayed silent, finally allowing himself to stand and move towards the door. They were here now; it was okay to leave her. With one last glance over his shoulder he pushed past the two Officers who had joined their Boss and made his way out of the front door. Both of them helped him as he half limped from the building, his leg and chest in pain from where the table had struck his body; leaving the man that smelt of tobacco and gin alone with Angela. He listened to his own footsteps clacking down the path, ignoring that of the Officers accompanying him. The steady rhythm soothed him.

The blast came suddenly, knocking them to the floor. He flung his hands over his head, wincing as his chest stretched. He felt the heat sweep his body and he could taste the hot ash floating around him. He turned his head to look over his shoulder and saw another room ablaze. Two bombs?

His question was answered by another blast ripping through the building, smaller than the last but hotter, the fierce heat burning at his face. He managed to pick himself up and scramble across the grass, away from the building, quickly followed by the other two Officers. He reached the crowd of Police who had stayed behind, taking cover behind their vehicles. They grabbed him and threw him down with him as a fourth explosion was heard from the house. They waited for another, but it didn't seem to come. The time ticked by…2 minutes…10 minutes…20 minutes…

It was then the bomb disposal squad arrived, entering the building with caution. Jethro watched as they retreated and shook their heads. No more bombs…no survivors.

That made the count to four, four innocent people who had died at the hands of this mission. The two from the restaurant, Angela and…it suddenly struck Jethro that he had never found out the man's name. How was that even possible? He had met with the man, shared information with him; how could he not know his name?

He leant over to one of the Officers near him and brought his lips close to his ear, none of them had fully recovered their hearing yet.

"What was his name?"

"Chief Constable Remmings, Sir."

Jethro let the use of 'Sir' slide for once and stared back out at the ruins of the house. Something fell into place in his mind and he walked over to the man that had taken control after the death of their superior.

"They were watching us."

"Pardon?"

"They had to have been watching us. I was in that house for at least 20 minutes after the first bomb, maybe longer, I don't know how long I was out."

"and…"

"Why didn't the other bombs go off?"

"Maybe they were motion sensors in each room."

"No, that doesn't make sense either, they swept the entire floor before finding me in that room. They would have tripped any sensors then."

"Then they were random, you're just lucky."

Jethro didn't like the tone of this new man in charge. He could see the rest of this investigation not running smoothly, not that it had run anything close to smooth so far.

"One bomb, then 20 minutes, and then three bombs together? That's not random."

"Then why do you suppose they waited?"

Why _had_ they waited for him to leave?


	11. Chapter 11

The man walked across the room, his footsteps quiet and steady

Sorry about the shortness of this chapter guys, I promise the next one should be a little longer :)

--

The man walked across the room, his footsteps quiet and steady. The light was still coming from behind him and his face was covered in darkness. She looked up at him from where she was sat, back to the wall. She watched as the man sat down in the chair she had been so desperate to be free off. The silence that followed was broken by his voice, echoing around the small room.

"I'm sorry it had to come to that, Jennifer."

It was him, the voice from behind the microphone; she'd been right, it hadn't been Fresco speaking to her over the com.

"What, you mean letting him get all over me, try to…"

"Yes."

The short answer took her aback for a second, but only a second.

"Then what do you want with me? You torture me, only to apologize?"

The man fiddled absent-mindedly with the gun in his hands, never once taking his eyes off of her. "I want you to tell me what you and Agent Gibbs found out about Fresco."

Again she was caught off guard by the use of Jethro's name. "Who's Agent Gibbs?" she said coldly, challenging him.

"I just did you a favor, Jennifer. The very least you could do is return it. Answer the question."

"And if I refuse to?" She looked him in the eye, searching, trying to take stock of the man.

"That wouldn't be a very wise thing to do." There was no trace of anger in the words, just cold confidence, edged with a dangerous caution.

She eyed the exit to the room, the door still teasingly open, taunting her with an escape route. There was no way she would make it. He was halfway between her and the door. She would barely make it to standing position before she would feel the bullet enter her body. There was no escaping. Not at that moment.

She decided to give a little, keep the conversation flowing away from the threats and the possibility that he would use the gun he cradled in his hands. Nothing new, just confirmation. It was a big step. "How do you know his name is Agent Gibbs?"

"Good girl," he said the making Jens insides boil as the words slipped from his tongue. It was all she could do not to run at him. "Now I think I asked the question first."

"You've got to give a little to get a little," she said letting a small smile take hold of her lips.

"Exactly." He returned the smile.

The silence between them was almost deafening. She dared him to answer first, to let the craving for information get to him, and release information of his own in the hope of getting what he so badly desired in return. That was the hardest step. If he budged, just that tiny bit, she knew she would be able to work him.

The muscles in his face moved a little and he swallowed. "I'm impressed, Jennifer. You are holding out, that courageous. Foolish…but courageous. I admire that."

She smiled a little brighter but it didn't reach her eyes, they remained hard and cold. "I've always been a little…foolish."

He rose from his chair suddenly and Jen gave an involuntary shiver. An action that was answered by a laugh echoing from the mans mouth. He walked over to where Jen was sitting against the wall and crouched beside her, gun still in hand. "Foolishness can be such a interesting weakness."

He raised his empty hand to her face and she moved her head to the side. His knuckles grazed the side of her cheek and she felt her body go cold. He left his fingers linger there, stroking her face, enjoying the effect it had on her. After a few seconds he seemed to tire of this, in favor of getting back to the job at present, and lowered his hand. He shifted a little and Jen felt the cool tip of his gun press against her skin, the barrel tilted upwards underneath her right ear.

"I want to know what you know about Fresco, and more importantly, how you know." The barrel pushed harder into her neck, causing a lump to form in her throat. "And I am not a patient man, Jennifer. The games stop here."


	12. Chapter 12

I'm so sorry about the delay on this one

I'm so sorry about the delay on this one. JD threw me and I haven't written until now. This is only a short chapter, but hey, I'm getting there :)

"Gibbs!" The shout came from the Officer who had taken control of the operation, Lieutenant Hunt.

Jethro moved from the where he was sat at the back of the ambulance and made his way over to the Lieutenant, brushing away the advances of the protesting medic.

"Yeah,"

"Listen to this," he said giving a nod to a middle-aged female who was standing nervously next to him. Jethro turned his attention to the woman. Looking up at him, she began to talk in a thick French accent.

She told him of how a car had pulled up in front her house, so naturally she watched from the window to see who it was. She noticed a man get out of the car with a video camera trained on Fresco's house and walked over there, letting himself in through the door. Curious, she had stayed at the window and watched as she saw him through the downstairs windows, seemingly filming the downstairs of the house. A little freaked out she had thought about calling the cops but hadn't; Fresco was well known in the area as someone to be avoided, there were various rumors and stories. She had watched as the man exited the house, got back in the car and waited. After about 5 minutes, she had got bored of watching and left the room but returned shortly after as she heard another car approaching. She had watched the two agents; she recognized Jethro as one of them; enter the house and had seen the explosion happen in front of her own eyes. She had called the Police straight away and kept an eye on the car with the man, but he had driven off as soon as the sirens could be heard.

She removed a piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Jethro. He unfolded it and saw a number plate, hand written on the creased paper. He looked over to Hunt, who was already on his phone putting out a BOLO. He spoke to the woman and repeated over the phone that it had been a red pickup. He removed the phone from his ear, flipping it shut and nodded at a nearby officer who moved over to them and took the woman away. He turned to Jethro.

"So that's how they knew, they had the entire thing on video. You were damned the minute you set foot through that door."

"Not the entire thing," Jethro said, looking across at where the car had supposedly been parked and then to where the remains of the house stood.

"What do you mean?"

"She said that he had left the moment the sirens approached." He looked up and down the street, searching for something.

"So…"

"So, if they were waiting for me to leave before exploding the last three bombs, how did they know when I was out of the house…that was after you guys got here. The red pickup was long gone."

The lieutenant caught on and followed Jethro's eye line. "There was another camera…"

Jethro walked off as the lieutenant signaled for several of the nearby officers, giving them instructions to search for the missing camera. It was ten minutes before the shout from one of the officers came.

The moon was full tonight, and in the branches of the tree that stood in the front garden, Jethro saw the glint that came from the lens of the camera. He moved closer and looked up as they all crowded around the tree. Lieutenant Hunt shouted an order and a man stepped forwards in white gloves. With a leg up from one of the other officers he managed to reach the camera and gently removed it from where it rested.

"What's that?" Jethro said pointing to a red flashing light that blinked in the corner of the tiny viewing screen that was pulled out. A woman stepped forwards and with her own white gloves on she took the camera and they all followed her as they went over to one of the nearby vans. She placed the camera down and pulled out a laptop. After going through a few, she found the right lead and managed to hook up the camera to the laptop. After a few minutes she looked over to the lieutenant and smiled.

"It's a live feed."

Jethro couldn't help the surge that ran through his body. They finally had a lead.

"Can you track it?" Gibbs said almost too quickly.

"I certainly can!" she said with a grin, her fingers tapping quickly at the keys of her laptop.

It was almost a minute before she cried out in triumph. "I've got them! There in a warehouse about 10 minutes from here."

Gibbs was halfway towards his car by the time Hunt had turned on the spot to look at him. He shouted after him to wait but by the time had had ran after, his fingertips barely scraped the smooth paintwork of the car as it sped away.

"Fuck."


End file.
